Alzdude28
Active Member
Critical condition
Date uncertain.
Somewhere in subspace
Einherjar, medical section
Once again, Al saw the wall ahead of him shatter under the hail of fire from the Mechtoid plasma cannons. He felt the mixture of concrete and plasma slam into his body, knocking him to the ground. As his vision faded he heard the gunfire continue, then this too faded away.
The next thing he was aware of was a feeling of movement and the howl of the Skyranger engines on ascent. He opened his eyes, but instead of seeing the interior of the dropship, he found himself back in the village of his birth, on Styx Prime. He was lying in the centre of the huts, near the communal fire. Above him was the council of Alphas and the shaman, looking down at him, through their masks. "There isn't enough equipment here to stabilize him." One said, in the human tongue. Al didn't remember anyone knowing of humans back home. He tried to ask what was going on, but found that he couldn't speak.
"Cleared for priority landing, medics on standby." Another said. Their voice muffled and crackling with static.
As this was said, the fire blazed up into an inferno, and Al saw the flames consume the drakes and the village until it was left as the smoking ruin that he had found after the raid. He closed his eyes to try to block out the sight, and when he opened them again he found himself in the cave that had been his home for so many years.
He looked around. The fire was burning by the cave mouth. The floor was covered in fur pelts and there were a few bones scattered near the entrance, from previous meals. It was exactly how he remembered it.
After a few seconds of tranquillity, he saw movement at the mouth of the cave, and the unmistakable figure of his mother entered.
She walked over to where he lay, carrying a brace of g'naika, that they used to trap with snares and cook on the fire until the meat turned black on the surface.
Once she reached him, she knelt down as she had done in the past when he had been ill, and said: "Tskantek h'nektak Zz'khaz Hireshnak. Kasht ne rektoc human ghas-ka. Ka sh'tei hekna ketaskan?" (You've certainly travelled far Zz'khaz Hireshnak. And thrown your lot in with humans too. What have you to show for that?)
He opened his mouth to reply, when with a jolt the cave moved away from him, disappearing into the distance to leave him in darkness once more.
After a while, the blackness resolved itself into the dark, smoke filled engine room of The Red Crab, the freighter that had taken him to Progressus.
Looking around, he saw a small group of humans, a replitan and a drake playing cards at a table between the engines. With a start he recognized the drake as himself.
He looked at the others at the table, who were all his former crewmates. There was Hess, Hanrahan and Captain Tesherova, along with Chief Engineer Weaver. He tried to call out to them, but couldn't hear himself over the engines.
Despite the noise, snatches of conversation drifted across. Some he remembered from the journey, Hanrahan's jokes, Weaver's voice, always sounding weary and the Captain's talk of home.
Some seemed out of place. Voices he didn't recognise saying things he didn't remember. "We can't replicate his blood fast enough."
"Vitals dropping. He's going into cardiac arrest."
"Clear!"
A searing pain bloomed in his chest and the world around him exploded with bright white light.
This soon became the snow cave that he had dug during his survival training in Canada. That merged into the room above the dockyard in Progressus where he had lived and the barracks in Russia he was assigned after enlisting. These kept changing into each other. He found it rather disconcerting.
The soldiers he had met aboard the Einherjar appeared and disappeared. Those he had bumped into, the other White Wolves and those from Operation Old Enemy.
As they ran past him, firing their weapons, he heard their voices float back.
"We can't save the arm. The plasma burns have destroyed the nerves."
"Understood. Prep him for the amputation."
"Don't call the cybernetics team in yet, we don't know enough about his physiology."
A whining noise started in the distance. Somewhere in Al's subconscious a thought formed. Bonesaw. Then, once again, he found himself behind the wall in New Manaus with a barrage of plasma sailing towards him.
Date uncertain.
Somewhere in subspace
Einherjar, medical section
Once again, Al saw the wall ahead of him shatter under the hail of fire from the Mechtoid plasma cannons. He felt the mixture of concrete and plasma slam into his body, knocking him to the ground. As his vision faded he heard the gunfire continue, then this too faded away.
The next thing he was aware of was a feeling of movement and the howl of the Skyranger engines on ascent. He opened his eyes, but instead of seeing the interior of the dropship, he found himself back in the village of his birth, on Styx Prime. He was lying in the centre of the huts, near the communal fire. Above him was the council of Alphas and the shaman, looking down at him, through their masks. "There isn't enough equipment here to stabilize him." One said, in the human tongue. Al didn't remember anyone knowing of humans back home. He tried to ask what was going on, but found that he couldn't speak.
"Cleared for priority landing, medics on standby." Another said. Their voice muffled and crackling with static.
As this was said, the fire blazed up into an inferno, and Al saw the flames consume the drakes and the village until it was left as the smoking ruin that he had found after the raid. He closed his eyes to try to block out the sight, and when he opened them again he found himself in the cave that had been his home for so many years.
He looked around. The fire was burning by the cave mouth. The floor was covered in fur pelts and there were a few bones scattered near the entrance, from previous meals. It was exactly how he remembered it.
After a few seconds of tranquillity, he saw movement at the mouth of the cave, and the unmistakable figure of his mother entered.
She walked over to where he lay, carrying a brace of g'naika, that they used to trap with snares and cook on the fire until the meat turned black on the surface.
Once she reached him, she knelt down as she had done in the past when he had been ill, and said: "Tskantek h'nektak Zz'khaz Hireshnak. Kasht ne rektoc human ghas-ka. Ka sh'tei hekna ketaskan?" (You've certainly travelled far Zz'khaz Hireshnak. And thrown your lot in with humans too. What have you to show for that?)
He opened his mouth to reply, when with a jolt the cave moved away from him, disappearing into the distance to leave him in darkness once more.
After a while, the blackness resolved itself into the dark, smoke filled engine room of The Red Crab, the freighter that had taken him to Progressus.
Looking around, he saw a small group of humans, a replitan and a drake playing cards at a table between the engines. With a start he recognized the drake as himself.
He looked at the others at the table, who were all his former crewmates. There was Hess, Hanrahan and Captain Tesherova, along with Chief Engineer Weaver. He tried to call out to them, but couldn't hear himself over the engines.
Despite the noise, snatches of conversation drifted across. Some he remembered from the journey, Hanrahan's jokes, Weaver's voice, always sounding weary and the Captain's talk of home.
Some seemed out of place. Voices he didn't recognise saying things he didn't remember. "We can't replicate his blood fast enough."
"Vitals dropping. He's going into cardiac arrest."
"Clear!"
A searing pain bloomed in his chest and the world around him exploded with bright white light.
This soon became the snow cave that he had dug during his survival training in Canada. That merged into the room above the dockyard in Progressus where he had lived and the barracks in Russia he was assigned after enlisting. These kept changing into each other. He found it rather disconcerting.
The soldiers he had met aboard the Einherjar appeared and disappeared. Those he had bumped into, the other White Wolves and those from Operation Old Enemy.
As they ran past him, firing their weapons, he heard their voices float back.
"We can't save the arm. The plasma burns have destroyed the nerves."
"Understood. Prep him for the amputation."
"Don't call the cybernetics team in yet, we don't know enough about his physiology."
A whining noise started in the distance. Somewhere in Al's subconscious a thought formed. Bonesaw. Then, once again, he found himself behind the wall in New Manaus with a barrage of plasma sailing towards him.